Return of the Man-Bat
by pointlessspike
Summary: Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot. The criminals of Gotham City once thought that Batman wasn't human. They turned him into a fairytale, a creature that was part-bat and part-man. This is the realisation of their worst nightmares. [Spoiler Alert: Arkham Knight]
1. Chapter 1

It was a dark, cold night in Gotham's Narrows. Wind rustled the leaves of the few trees that dotted the street, and the feeble lights were barely able to illuminate anything. Most of the lights in the windows had been extinguished now. Gloria Wright wrapped her coat around her tighter as she walked. Normally she wouldn't be out that late, but she had had to work an extra shift after a colleague called in sick. She could use the extra pay anyway, but she hated walking home at night. The narrows simply weren't safe, now that criminals were getting back on the streets after that mess with Scarecrow and Batman. There was no longer any fear of caped crusaders, and that made the streets more dangerous than they had been in a long time.

Gloria hoped that wouldn't be a problem as she ducked into an empty alley. But her heart almost stopped when a figure stepped in front of the exit. She stopped in her tracks, and then backed away and turned. Maybe it was just someone walking the other way? Perhaps she looked foolish. But she couldn't risk it.

Before she could exit the alley the way she'd come, it was blocked by another man, and this time she got a better look. He actually wasn't bad-looking, and she mentally chastised herself for the thought. He gave her a wolfish grin and said, "Hey, honey. It's dangerous out here. You should be careful. You never know who might be lurking."  
A voice behind her said, "Like us."  
Gloria turned to look at the other, and could see him better now. She could also see something moving swiftly behind him, getting bigger. A dark shape. Her eyes widened as it came into view. A blur with wings that pounced on the man, who fell to the ground. Gloria stepped backwards, away from it, and turned to see the other man doing the same. "What the fuck..." came his reaction.  
The thing, whatever it was, was easier to see now. It looked like some kind of bat, but huge. At first Gloria thought it was another Batman, but this was something else. Inhuman. It screeched at its victim as it tore into him, ripping chunks out of his flesh.  
The man next to Gloria reached into his jacket and got out a gun. Gloria flattened herself against the wall as he pointed it at the creature, which saw him and made an even louder screeching sound. It was deafening, and they clamped their hands on their ears, but the sound seemed to bore into Gloria and she fell to the ground.

A moment later, the sound stopped. Gloria got up, slowly, to find that the creature was gone. The man on the ground was clearly dead, and the other was recovering still, so she bolted out of there. He made no effort to stop her.

* * *

Detective Frank Teague sipped his coffee to try to wake him up as he approached the scene of the crime. He needed the boost especially this morning- he'd gotten there late because he was somehow still tired even after a decent night's rest. But he had a job to do.  
His partner, Nora Sharp, was already there and talking to the ME. The ME pointed to Frank and she walked over to meet him. She was new, having only just been promoted to detective, but she was good at her job. She seemed committed and innocent. It was charming, but Frank knew it wouldn't last, especially now. Their jurisdiction was in probably the worst place in the city. Frank only survived in the job because he played the game like everyone. She'd learn.

"Morning, Teague."  
Frank winced at the sound of her voice, which was way too loud for his brain to tolerate. "Jeez, inside voice, please. No need to shout."  
Sharp looked confused for a moment, then continued "Okay. We've got an interesting one here. ME says it shows all the signs of an animal attack. As far as he'd concerned, an animal killed these people."  
Frank smiled. "Good. That means we can hand it to Animal Control. Case closed."  
Sharp shook her head. "Not so fast. We've got two witnesses. Apparently two men cornered a woman in the alley. Before they could do anything, the victim, as in the dead one, was attacked. Then the thing disappeared."  
Frank shrugged. "Still sounds like an animal attack."  
"Yeah, sure. An animal shaped like a bat, the size of a man."  
Frank frowned. "Okay. That changes it a bit. A Batman wannabe?"  
Sharp cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe before commenting, you should listen to the rest?"  
Frank made a motion for her to continue and she told him, "They got a decent look, Definitely not human. I quote, 'It looked like what we thought Batman was before he became Bruce Wayne'. He said it was definitely not even a little bit human, and wasn't wearing any clothes."  
That gave Frank pause. The only thing close to that description was...  
"Come on," he told his partner. "We're going to see someone."

Frank took one last look at the dead guy before he left. A part of him was glad he'd been stopped before that woman had been hurt. That part wondered if maybe this would stop the crime in the city from getting worse.

* * *

Dr. Kirk Langstrom's flat was a modest one-bed place, but it was in a decent enough area. It was a change from the sizeable house he had lived in with his wife. Truth be told, Frank didn't relish the idea of seeing the man again. He'd only had a brief conversation with him last time, but he had been a mess. Langstrom had just been... changed... from being a hideous, bat-like creature. Frank didn't know whether to hope this latest event was him. He didn't like the idea of this man being made to suffer even more than he already had, but this was the only lead they had, so it would wrap up the case pretty neatly.

A few moments after Frank knocked on the door, it opened. Langstrom looked better than last time, but not by much. He hadn't shaven in a little while, and he didn't smell great either. He looked Frank over and didn't even seem to notice Detective Sharp next to him. "Detective. What can I do for you?"  
Frank gave him an amiable smile. "Hey, doc. Do you mind if we come in?"  
Langstrom motioned for them to enter and they did. The place was a bit of a mess, but wasn't too bad, all things considered.  
They sat down and Frank asked, "There was an incident last night. Somebody died, and witnesses say a creature shaped like a bat was responsible. Something that looked an awful lot like..."  
"Me," Langstrom finished.  
A pause. Then, "We just wondered if you had relapsed."  
Langstrom shook his head. "Ever since leaving the hospital, I've worn a monitor, like the court order says. It feeds directly to the hospital. If I changed, trust me, you'd know. I'd be in a cell."  
Frank thanked him for his help and they headed back to the precinct. They'd check, of course, but Frank was getting the feeling that this wouldn't be so easy./pre


	2. Chapter 2

It was a good night for Oswald Cobblepot, known as "The Penguin" by his enemies. He'd started making gains again after the Bat had destroyed his product months earlier. He'd only been out a week and he'd already made a lot of headway- contacts were the one thing the pigs couldn't take away. That, and his hidden stashes. In actual fact, he had a little over a quarter of his fortune left. The rest had been invested in what Batman and his fairy boytoy had gotten rid of.

But reputation means a lot as well. Everyone knew the Penguin had their arming needs covered, and he was fair in his dealings. And, of course, his aristocratic background meant that they all knew he was an honourable man. Oswald smiled, knowing that meant he'd never be kept down.

That smile faded when there was a thump on the roof. the vehicle, which was going at a decent speed, swayed from side to side for a moment, before there was a tearing sound above him, and Oswald saw something through a hole. Whatever it was, it was strong enough to tear a hole in a metal roof. Oswald screamed at the driver to stop the car, but there was no time. The thing hopped down and grabbed him by the legs as he scrambled to get out. It had massive wings, which flapped, and they both rose out the vehicle.  
Oswald screamed, seeing the street retreat beneath him. He closed his eyes to avoid seeing the vast space beneath him. He said to himself, "no, no, nonononono" as he was carried away.  
A few moments passed, and he looked at his kidnapper, opening his eyes to look up. It was huge and ugly, and Oswald instantly knew it from the paper. He said to the thing, "What the hell are you?"  
He didn't really expect a response- he doubted the thing could even hear him with the wind rushing over them.  
But it did respond. First with a laugh- or, anyway, a distorted cackle- and then, "MaaaaaanBAT!"  
And then it let go, and Oswald Cobblepot felt pure terror at knowing his fate.

* * *

Frank's dreams that night were odd, to say the least. He dreamed of the Man-Bat, but instead of being horrifying, as he expected, he dreamed he WAS the creature. And instead of being a horrible existence, trapped in an ugly shell, it was freeing. Diving from rooftops, soaring through the night sky, flapping powerful wings... it was a nice feeling.  
When he woke up he told himself that it was just that this case was getting to him. After all, it was hard to see something as evil when all it was doing was defending rape victims from hardened criminals. But he supposed they'd see if it was doing something more sinister than that.

The call that revealed the Man-Bat's next target answered that question. He still had to investigate it, of course- but he had decided that until it started being a threat to actual, hard-working, innocent people (or if they didn't exist, someone who wasn't a total psychopath), he would put in the minimal amount of work to find it.  
Anyone that would kill Oswald Cobblepot deserved some leeway.

He got the crime scene in decent time, though. Sharp was already there, as usual. She always got there early. She looked at Cobblepot amd shook her head. "I have to admit to some mixed feelings here."  
Frank gave a short huff of laughter. "What's there to be mixed? Cobblepot has plagued us for years. If Wayne hadn't had some weird thing about killing, the Penguin would have been gone a long time ago."  
Sharp gave him a look. "You really don't see this as a problem? Some... thing, going around killing people?"  
Frank took out a smoke, lit it, and took a drag. "Nope. If it keeps killing people as bad as this-" he gestured towards the dead arms smuggler- "I wish it all the best."  
Sharp shook her head again, this time seemingly in disbelief at his attitude. "It's killing people, Frank."  
The use of his first name was a not-so-subtle hint that she was concerned.  
Frank replied, "You're new, so you haven't seen it yet. But these guys cause unimaginable amounts of suffering. The public like to think they do that and get put away forever, but the well-known ones like Penguin and Two-Face... they're too smart for the system to work. Too powerful. They get put away for small stuff sometimes, like because they were in the city during Scarecrow's attack, but that's all. They're so violent, so terrible, their reach so vast, that witnesses have no chance of testifying. Their victims number in the hundreds, maybe thousands. Dead victims. They might not have killed them directly, or even known about them, but they're responsible.  
"So no, I'm not fucking crying over them getting what's coming to them. One death is miniscule compared to what's coming, now they're getting out."  
He realised, too late, that he'd raised his voice a bit too much and others at the scene were watching and listening. Many were nodding in agreement. Frank said nothing more, and went to talk to the ME. But it was pretty obvious from looking what had killed him.

The hospital had confirmed Langstrom's story. Their line of investigation now hinged on his work, the only known copy of which had been confiscated by the police "for the public good", once the police had come back into control of the city after Scarecrow's attack. The only problem was that it hadn't been touched. Despite many requests for it to be released, the Mayor had ordered it to be kept in evidence.  
So that was a bit of a mystifying dead end. According to Langstrom, only he and his wife had access to it. But since she was dead, that was the end of that. At least, they thought she was dead. Ever since some sicko had stolen the body and left some weird note, who knows? The Man-Bat could be a She-Bat. But that seemed unlikely.

But none of this precluded the possibility that someone had gone down the same line of research. No science happens in a vacuum, after all. So that was his next task- one that he'd never have to perform in any other city that didn't have the sheer number of freaks that Gotham had. He was headed to ProGen, a genetics company working on the same kind of thing Langstrom was working on. Their website specifically mentioned their work on fixing human disabilities using animal DNA. Langstrom had been working on solving deafness, so if they were doing something similar, it was possible they'd produced the latest Man-Bat.

* * *

ProGen's Gotham labs were impressive. It looked like they were a successful company, but Frank and Sharp ended up waiting a while for the head of research to be ready to see them. A good sign that they weren't happy with them being there.  
She turned out to be a pretty brunette, Doctor Lorentz, that was just started to enter middle age. As they entered her office, she indicated that they could sit, which they did. Frank could have sworn he'd seen her before somewhere, but he couldn't place her face.  
"What do I owe the pleasure of this visit, detectives? It's not often we get the police asking questions about genetic engineering."  
Sharp retorted, "It's not often genetically engineered creatures start killing Gotham residents in the streets."  
Lorentz didn't react to that in the slightest. "I assure you don't produce that kind of thing here. Our work is more focussed on genetic disorders, although as I'm sure you're aware we've done recent work on creating immunity to fear gas. None of that would create a bat thing."  
The fear gas thing sounded familiar. The penny dropped, and Frank stated, "You were the ones that inoculated the police department against fear gas."  
Lorentz gave him a smile that wasn't very warm. "Not our usual kind of work but we were the only ones with the equipment. After the scare last month where criminals got their hands on fear gas, the mayor was... insistent."  
Frank tried to get them back on track. "I don't suppose you'd mind if we could have a look around? Maybe talk to your personnel?"  
Lorentz gave another cold smile. "I'm afraid that's out of the question. We have very sensitive research going on here, and we're at the forefront, so we have a lot to protect. I'm sure you understand. You'll need a warrant. If you can get one."  
Frank knew she was right. He didn't have much change of getting a judge to sign off on that with what he had. He had no evidence of them doing anything, but they were the only people he knew of that could be involved.  
He sighed and asked, "Isn't there anything you can give me? Do you know of anyone else in Gotham doing similar work? Any, I don't know, rogue researchers?"  
Lorentz shook her head. "There's no-one else in this city doing work on that level. And our employees sign non-compete agreements and closely monitored, so they can't take our secrets elsewhere. I assure you that this company is not involved in any way."  
She sounded like a PR person, just saying what she was told to say. Classic stonewalling. Could be for the reasons she was giving, could be that they would be liable. Frank thanked her for her time and they got out of there.


	3. Chapter 3

Another night, another run. Quick was good at getting from place to place fast, without attracting attention. He often got given tasks directly by Two-Face himself, and he'd developed a reputation for being good at his job. He was particularly proud of that. And of course, he got paid a fair bit. He considered himself lucky that he could do that and didn't have to hurt anyone. The kind of cruelty done by others he worked with wasn't his thing. He liked his job. All he had to do was ensure nobody got their hands on what Dent had given him, and he'd be golden. And, of course, he had to deliver quickly.

He was completely taken off guard when it happened. Just crossing the street to duck into another side alley, when all of a sudden his feet were off the ground, and sharp claws were digging into his shoulders. Up he went, and soon he was dropped onto a building's roof, rolling uncomfortably to a stop.

He rolled over onto his back, but before he could move, something hideous was on him. He said to himself, "Oh, god, what the hell..."  
The thing looked like if medusa and a gargoyle had had a baby. And it spoke- spoke!- like it was made of gravel.  
"Twooooo-face. WHERE?!"

Whatever this thing was, it didn't sound very smart. Quick gave it a go. "He's- he's at a warehouse on fifth. One of his companies, the Lucky Fish."  
The thing seemed to be listening intently, and looked displeased, although Quick had no idea how he could tell. It didn't waste time accusing him of lying, it just dragged a claw down an arm, digging into the flesh. Quick screamed in pain.  
Quick panted, "I can't tell you! He'll kill me, and my family!"  
The thing leaned close and hissed, "He diiieeeeessssss tonight! Do not tell, you die too!"  
Quick shook his head. "You'll never kill him. He ain't no arms dealer."  
His captor gave an impatient huff and lifted a claw to Quick's face. "Telllll!"  
Quick almost crapped himself then, and practically shrieked, "An abandoned factory, in the Bowery! I don't know what it's called, it's just off the highway. He'll be there all night. He's waiting for me to get back."  
The bat-thing moved off him, and with a flap of its giant wings, it was gone.  
Quick hoped fervently that Dent would meet his end tonight, and decided he was best off continuing so nobody would suspect he was the one who told the bat.

He'd thought these days were behind them...

* * *

The factory was mostly quiet. The Bowery was mostly now a haven for criminals, as it had been since it had been Arkham City. Norman Wright- known as Loafer on the streets for having been arrested for something as trivial as stealing bread- still didn't understand that. They'd taken a fairly nice part of the city and turned it into a prison. It still reminded him of that, although a few had tried to make a go of moving back in. The property prices had plummeted, and a few had tried setting up businesses. Despite the heavy protection fees, some had managed to thrive. But it was a far cry from what it had been.

The big businesses- such as the factory they were now operating out of- were still vacant. Nobody had bothered even to remove the expensive equipment in it, and it lay there waiting for someone to put it to use. But now, Harvey Two-Face was using the building. He was trying to get the gang back together, and not having much luck. Brutality like his was good for keeping people in line, but not for inviting people to work for you.

Still, they were making a fair bit now, off of the people moving back in to the area. And Dent had set up a few companies of his own that could turn a tidy sum. If their competition was removed from the area.

Loaf's job was to keep a lookout for the cops. It was unlikely they'd come for them, but they never knew. They hadn't bothered to pay off the local ones, because they didn't have much power at the minute. But they could still make a go if they realised what Dent were up to.

Loaf turned a corner and only just had time to register something blotting out the light behind him.

Harvey Dent had been up against Batman enough times that he had developed a sense for when he was nearby. When something was watching, waiting to pounce. It was a sensation he had never expected to feel again. But there was definitely something there.

He turned to his new lieutenant, Quincy. "There's someone here. Check it out."  
When he'd left, Two-Face came forth, and grinned. Too long since a good fight. "It's about time. A new Batman? A pretender?"  
Harvey arose. "Could be. Or the thing that killed Penguin. Maybe there's someone in there. Someone seeking justice. That I could respect."  
"Screw that. It needs to die. We've got plans!"  
Harvey agreed, and they headed out of the foreman's office to see what was going on.

Shortly after, he heard a brief scream, then silence. He keyed the radio in his pocket. "Quincy."  
Silence. "Quincy, report."  
Nothing. Two-Face shouted, "Come and face me, you coward!"  
Harvey said, "We should leave."  
Two-Face, despite the brave face, didn't have too much of an objection, and they headed across the catwalk to an exit.

Halfway across, a shadow moved in his peripheral vision, and Harvey got out his pistols. But before he could react, something slammed into him and he fell to the floor below the catwalk, hard.  
He felt something snap, and groaned in pain, but still kept his weapons ready.  
He saw something launch itself at him, and fired a few shots. One might have made contact, but the rest went wide.  
The thing landed on him, forcing his arms to the floor. It said to him in the most horrible voice he'd ever heard, "Dieeeee now, Twooooo-FACE!"  
Then it seemed to be moving off him, but as it did, it raked a claw across his throat, opening it. Dent felt warmth on his skin, and tried to keep it from spilling out. Soon, it went cold, and he died, alone, in someone else's factory.

* * *

Frank stood over Harvey Dent's body, feeling like the sight was oddly familiar. Like he'd been in the building before, but couldn't quite place it. Nora Sharp stood opposite and said, "I'd always hoped Dent would find a way back. I guess he never got a chance."  
Frank almost laughed. "He had a chance. He had many. He was broken in a way nobody could fix. This was inevitable."  
Sharp said nothing more, until she noticed Frank wincing when he tried to use his left arm. "What's up with you?"  
"Hurt myself last night. Probably sleepwalking again. No idea how it happened."  
He didn't mention that his shoulder looked an awful lot like he'd been grazed by a bullet. But he was sure it was something else. He wasn't walking the streets at night. His sleepwalking had only ever been minor.  
Frank looked around. "How many died here, then? Five? New record for our perp."  
Sharp replied, "Yeah. How long before it kills someone that's just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or an undercover cop?"  
Frank didn't have an answer for that.  
After another moment, Sharp pointed around the body and told him, "See those shell casings? It looks like he got off a few rounds. The CSIs found blood as well, and they think it might have been the perp's. So we might actually get some DNA."  
Frank shrugged. "Not sure what good it'll do, but I'll get the analysis fast-tracked. Should get it by the end of the day."  
After they'd gathered up all the evidence they headed back.  
The Captain called them in once they got back to the precinct. Serial killer with two prominent victims in three days and many others besides, urgency, etc. Nothing Frank didn't know. But he still didn't feel it. The city was better off without the Man-Bat's "victims". He'd done more good for the city than Batman had in the god-knew-how-many years he was beating them up and leaving the system to spit them back onto the streets.

Sure enough, just when Frank was about to give up and go home, the DNA analysis came through. Unknown, as he'd expected. What he wasn't expecting was that it had percentage matches for human and vampire bat DNA. He didn't waste any time, and called the lab.  
When he got through to the tech that had done the analysis, he asked, "Can you confirm your findings? He's part-vampire bat?"  
"Yep, that's right. It's probably the most interesting sample I've gotten. Clearly genetically engineered."  
Frank asked, "Okay, so they'd need samples to work from, right? Not everybody has vampire bats."  
The voice on the other end replied, "I see where you're going. Yeah, and there are only a few companies that can provide that sort of thing. I'll send you over some links."  
"Thanks."  
Frank hung up, feeling like he might actually have a lead. The familiar excitement at unravelling the mystery had taken over his reluctance to actually find out who it was that was doing it.


	4. Chapter 4

Harley Quinn was getting really sick of being in handcuffs and cages. Ever since Batman (or Bruce Wayne or whatever people called him now) had left her in his own private prison cell. But at least then she'd been able to taunt his Bird-Boy. Now her only company, aside from guards that were less than inclined to indulge her sense of humour, was Ths Scarecrow, and he was even less fun now than he had been before. Since Batman had dosed him with his own fear toxin, he'd been switching between unresponsiveness and paranoid schizophrenia.  
She couldn't help but feel sympathy for the poor thing, but that was slightly dampened by the insult of being lumped in with him. The armored car they were in was headed to a place she had mixed feelings about- Arkham Asylum. Her feelings on it had morphed over the years. First, trepidation, as a young psychiatrist working there. Then, shortly after getting familiar with it, she'd been imprisoned there, and had come to see it as the cage they kept returning her to.  
She hated that feeling. But she had come to love the place when they'd managed to turn it into their own little playground (not their first, of course, after the literal amusement park they'd had once).  
Now it was back to being under the control of really boring people, and she didn't want to see that.  
So here she sat, accompanied by armored pigs with rifles, hoping someone would save her from going back.

There was a part of her that refused to believe that wouldn't be the Joker. Her puddin' had always been the one to rely on in these situations. But she was getting to the point now where she could consider believing it. After she'd seen parts of him in others (which psychiatrists had assured her was her imagination, but what did they know), she'd lost any hope now.  
She'd considered going out. She'd considered just making this the last chapter of the story, where he's killed by the Batman and she does herself to avoid living without him. It would be so romantic.  
But she knew he'd want her to continue. To do the work he'd started, to show the world just how insane it really is. To be its Queen of Madness. She just had to hope now that she actually had people left that were loyal enough to help.

They continued to the Asylum, heading through the city's neighborhoods. Soon they'd be heading to the outskirts, where Arkham Island awaited her.  
All of a sudden, the truck stopped, and Scarecrow started muttering to himself, "Scarecrow... scarecrow...". Harley could see flashing lights. Police lights.  
The guards exchanged uneasy looks while the driver started talking to someone outside of the vehicle.  
A moment later, there was a cough, and silence. Then the back opened just a fraction, and the guards readied their weapons. An object rolled in through the slightly-opened door, and the men burst through the door upon seeing its shape- that of a grenade.  
As soon as they got out, they were gunned down.

Harley's right-hand man called himself Furley, although no-one knew why. He was a scary guy, so everyone just accepted it. He was the first in, quickly grabbing Harley and Scarecrow, taking them out of the truck, and pushing them into another they'd parked a short distance away. It had a picture of a scary-looking clown on the side and the words "Clown Conveyancing Services" clearly visible. It was an inside joke within their organization that they made themselves as obvious as possible, to highlight how little people actually paid attention. Although Harley knew that the majority of their people (her people, she reminded herself sadly) didn't get it.

Soon they were off, and Harley asked Furley, "So where'd ya get the cop cars?"  
He shrugged and replied, "Couple a my guys dressed as cops and took 'em from the station. Easy-peasy."  
Harley grinned. Perfect.

They headed on, back to... somewhere. After a little while Furley told Harley, "We're holed up in a bank in The Bowery. Really, a bank. The area is so trashed they don't even want the bank. So it's all ours now."  
Harley nodded in approval. Everything was going-  
Scarecrow made a noise, like he was frightened. He started muttering again, but this time it was something that wasn't surprising given his history. "Batman... batman... he's here..."  
Harley ignored him. It's not like Bruce Wayne was gonna come back from the dead.  
What happened next, happened quickly, without warning. There was a crash at the front of the vehicle, and Harley saw something poke out of the back of the driver's seat. It looked like a hollow piece of metal. But she didn't have time to consider it, because the truck careened off the road to the side. The passenger yanked the wheel just in time, bringing back on the road, and they gradually came to a stop.  
Harley checked the driver's pulse. Nada. Not surprising, given that he had a street sign poking through his chest and the windshield.

There were exclamations and unanswered questions, starting usually with "what the-". Scarecrow was blubbering and panicking, screaming "BATMAN, BATMAN, BATMAN" Harley said to the goons, "Someone shut him up!"  
Someone punched him in the head, and he was out cold. The others went quiet too, perhaps afraid they'd be next. And that's when they heard it- a shrieking sound from outside the truck. Like from a horrible creature looking for its next meal.  
Someone muttered, "It's here. The Bat."  
Furley clapped him on the head and chided him, "The Bat's dead, you dolt!"  
He replied, "Not that Bat! The Man-Bat!"

Everyone knew what he meant. After a moment, Harley decided they needed to move. "We can't stay here. Let's move, on foot. You," she pointed at the biggest guy there, "Pick up Crane. We're bringing him with us."  
Furley led the way, opening the doors. The Bat was silent for the moment, so they hoped it had given up and left. But as Furley beckoned them to follow him, as he stood in the street, he disappeared. Snatched up, like a rodent by an owl.  
They heard his screams until they abruptly stopped somewhere above them. A few moments later, there was a crash on the roof and it buckled slightly. The five that were left all instinctively bailed out, and headed for the nearest alley.

They all got there in one piece, but they could hear the creature shrieking its ugly head off. When they were safe in the alley, one of the men said, "What the hell is that thing?!"  
Harley didn't respond. She just led them to the other end of the alley. The coast seemed clear, so she told them, "We need to just run, and keep running. Okay, let's go."  
She hadn't even finished speaking before one of the men ran out into the seemingly empty road and just disappeared. There was a familiar shrieking sound as the Bat flew away, and Harley didn't hesitate, running out while it was busy. The others followed, and kept going. They were nearly to a nearby safehouse when she was yanked upwards. She looked up and saw the creature, latched onto her with its claws.

Soon it deposited her on a roof, not gently, but not violently enough to break anything. The thing landed across the roof from her, and for a moment stayed there, the only sound coming from its breathing. Harley had dropped her guns when it had picked her up, so she now had no way to defend herself against it. She was completely at its mercy.

After a few moments, Harley said to it, "You went to all this trouble for some alone time, huh? Could have just asked."  
It responded by turning around, and then with one flap of its wings it leapt at her, landing on top. She barely had time to register that the thing spelled awful, before its head came down and she felt agony in her neck. It got up and with one flap of its wings it flew off, leaving her bleeding profusely. She tried to stop the bleeding for a few seconds, before she started to feel weak and her hands were drenched in blood.

Soon she just stopped fighting, because she couldn't muster the strength anymore. That was it for her.

* * *

Frank looked down at the dried blood staining the rooftop. What a mess. Harley had been a pretty girl, but he supposed it went to show that you can never tell what's in someone by how they look. She'd killed a lot of people, even if most of it was indirect. It was a shame that she hadn't taken the opportunity to make something of herself.  
He looked up when the ME told him, "It severed the carotid artery. She would have bled out in moments. It looks like it did it with its mouth, so we might be able to get some saliva samples."  
Frank thanked him. Sharp was already back at the office, checking out the lead he'd gotten the night before.

It turned out to be just before lunch that he and Sharp were stood, again, in the lobby of ProGen. But this time they had uniformed officers with them to go over ProGen's research and verify whether they were the ones behind the Man-Bat. Lorentz came out again, and as expected, asked to see their warrant, then relented. "You're not going to find anything of interest here. Our work has nothing to do with creating genetic hybrids."  
Sharp asked her, "So it's a coincidence that your work involves the exact same species of bat that was used to create the Man-Bat? You're the only people in this state that are doing research with it."  
Lorentz shrugged. "That order was a mistake. We disposed of the bats as soon as we received them. No research was done on them."  
Frank gave an amused huff. "And we're supposed to just believe you on that."  
Lorentz gave him a smile. "Yup. Given that they're not here."  
Frank motioned for the officers to head in. "We'll have to confirm that."

It took several hours for them to go through the research. At the end, Frank and Lorentz were in her office alone. She told him, "I'll be filing charges. I don't know how you got a judge to approve that warrant but it was a mistake."  
Frank hardly heard her. He was looking at her phone, which was on the desk. Her lock screen showed a familiar face. Doctor Kirk Langstrom smiled up at them.  
Frank looked up at her in shock. "You're Francine Langstrom. I thought you were dead!"  
Francine looked down at her phone and swore. Her shoulders slumped and she sat down. But she still had a note of defiance in her voice and body language. "I can explain. And when I do, you're going to send your people away. You won't turn me in."  
Frank stared for a moment. "Why on Earth would I not turn in someone who's responsible for creating a creature that's killed over a dozen people?"  
Francine replied, "Because that creature is you. You're the Man-Bat."  
Frank laughed and shook his head. "Wow, that's about the worst attempt at deflection I've ever heard. Accusing the cop of murdering the victims is pretty far out there."  
Francine wasn't smiling. "What did I have for breakfast, detective?"  
"Sausage sandwiches," Frank said without thinking. "Wait, how did I know that?"  
"Enhanced senses are one of the advantages of our particular disposition. I'm like you, sort of. I gained certain abilities after my husband turned into the first Man-Bat. I've been working on proving his research can work. So along with your fear gas inoculation you got a little bit of our serum. You are the only one in the police department who responded. Now it seems you're turning into the bat at night, to do what you've always wanted to."  
Frank shook his head and was about to object when Francine continued, "I'm guessing you've had odd dreams lately. Of being the bat. And you've been tired during the day. Unexplained injuries. Am I getting close?"  
Frank paused to consider her words. It sounded completely crazy, but she was describing exactly what he'd experienced.  
He stopped for a minute and tried focussing. Bats could hear really well, so if he tried...  
Sharp was in the lobby talking with a uni. He heard every word, like she was standing right next to him. How long had he been able to do that? It wasn't possible for a human.

Frank asked Francine, "You did this to me? And you think I'm going to just let you go after that?"  
She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "What do you think they'll do to you if they find out what you are? You'll be experimented on. You'll disappear into some government facility and never come out."  
Frank was about to respond when she interrupted him again. He was getting annoyed by that. "Besides, I have a way to stabilise you. To make sure you are always in control of it. So you can transform when you want, and stay in control when you do. No-one will die unless you want them to. And imagine what this research could do! Now I can go back to my husband and prove that this can work. If we work together, we can cure deafness. We can create human lie detectors using enhanced hearing. We can create officers of the law that can run all day and never get tired, or make them more resistant to damage. All that will be lost if we go away."  
That made him stop and think. Sharp was coming towards the office, he could hear her footsteps. He could smell her already. This was what he was, and giving them up could end any chance he had to be normal. The important thing was to stop the killings anyway...

When Sharp came in, Frank told Francine, "We're sorry for the inconvenience, Doctor Lorentz. We'll get out of your hair." Then he motioned for Sharp to follow and they left the building.


End file.
